


Home for the Holidays

by HolmesianDeduction



Series: 25 Days of Holiday Fic 2k12 [13]
Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011), Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - All Media Types, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - John Le Carré
Genre: 'The Monster', 25 Days of Fic, Family, Holidays, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Pre-Canon, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesianDeduction/pseuds/HolmesianDeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[25 Days of Holiday Fic: Day 15 - Presents]</p>
<p>(A sequel to these three pieces: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/588560">1</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/589601">2</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/591613">3</a>)</p>
<p>Jim and Bill briefly discuss the possibility of Bill's returning home to visit his family at Christmas, and idea to which Bill is less than receptive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home for the Holidays

             "Bill."

             "Mmmn?  What is it?"  Bill's half-awake, muffled reply pressed itself against skin as he buried his face in Jim's chest.  Bill had been draped over him, unmoving for the past half hour or so, but to Jim at least, he was clearly still awake, his half-lidded eyes far more alert than they appeared to be.

             "How long do you plan on staying?"  Idly tracing Bill's spine with his fingertips, Jim propped his head up on the pillow slightly.

             "Depends."  Purring, Bill stretched before resting his chin atop his hands where they folded across Jim's breastbone.  "How long do you want me for?"

             Jim hesitated, his pulse jumping as the implications of the question raced down his body.  Finally he managed a half mumbled, "Don't you want to spend Christmas day with your family?  Exchange presents and all that?"

             Bill laughed, and for a moment something bitter seemed to curl around the edges of his lips only to quickly recede again as he shook his head and lowered his head again, his breath warm on Jim's skin.  "Why should I?"

             "You'll catch hell for it if you don't, you know."

             Bill snorted.  "I'll catch hell either way."  A small huff of laughter ruffled over Jim's chest followed by the dry brush of Bill's lips, then.  "I'll tell them I was helping you study for next term."

             "Will they believe that?"  Jim's hand had settled into the no-man's land of Bill's lower back, his thumb grazing the line of his tail-bone.

             Nuzzling his chest, Bill's response was half-muttered against Jim's skin, sending another shiver through him as Bill's fingers splayed over his ribs.  "I don't bloody _care_ if they do or not."  When Jim didn't reply, Bill sighed with the faintest tinge of irritability and lifted his head.  "I've got you.  What do I care what anyone thinks?"

             Jim started to protest, but then gave up before anything could leave his mouth.  It was true - Bill _didn't_ care what anyone thought of him.  Why _should_ he? He could charm a whole room with a flash of his schoolboy grin and then conquer them by force of personality.  He was popular among students and tutors alike, and could - often did - have his pick of anyone in nearly any room he entered.

             Suddenly, he was jolted from his thoughts by the warmth of Bill's lips skidding low on his abdomen and the trail of his thumbs over the angles of his hips. Hissing between his teeth, Jim's hips shuddered, his hands reflexively pressing his fingertips into Bill's shoulder blades.  A breathy chuckle flickered against Jim's skin in response to his reaction and Bill's hands slid further down, his capable artist's hands caressing the tops of Jim's thighs, thumbs dipping to graze his inner thighs as Bill's mouth followed the line of his hip bone, pausing only to bite down over a fading bruise left by the same set of teeth.

             Making a low noise in his throat, Jim slid the fingers of one hand into the back of Bill's hair, leaning his own head back against the pillow as Bill's lips slid over his skin, the low purr in his throat drawing a half-strangled Czech curse from Jim's lips.  Bill only laughed softly, the warmth of his breath bucking Jim's hips and allowing him to slip a hand under to the small of his back.


End file.
